


Fire and Blood

by SunlightOnTheWater



Series: Ashes to Dust [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam is a Winchester, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightOnTheWater/pseuds/SunlightOnTheWater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious fire in his youngest brother's bedroom turns Sam Winchester's idyllic childhood into a monster hunting nightmare he finds himself clinging to his family. When he realizes his family doesn't need him, he makes his escape to college but nineteen years after the fire a traumatic event will draw him back into the world he tried to leave behind. Updates on Mondays and Fridays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my newest project! This is the first of five stories that will cover the basic story arc of the first five season of Supernatural (the quest to free Lucifer and allow him to win the war) but aims to be vastly different in many ways than the actual series. I hope you enjoy!

John Winchester had three sons and a beautiful wife once upon a time. They lived in a neat two story house in Lawrence, Kansas. John was a mechanic and Mary occasionally did small portraits for commission. They made enough to stay afloat and then some to save away and they were happy. That all changed one fateful night in early November. Mary Winchester, hearing a disturbance through the crackle noise of the baby monitor, had left her bedroom to walk down the hall and check on her youngest son, Adam. Three minutes later the entire bedroom had erupted into flames, leaving the middle son, three year old Sam, to stumble out carrying his six month old baby brother. Police called it a case of faulty wiring but after a visit with a local psychic the Winchesters new the truth; demons.

John set about tracking down the creature that had killed his beloved Mary, young children in two. For a time he left his oldest son Dean, five at the time of his mother's death, alone in a hotel room with a traumatized little boy and a baby but by the time Dean was twelve he was beginning to come on simple hunts. Meanwhile, from the time he was eight on, Sam raised Adam. For a long time the youngest boy adored Sam, gave his life purpose, but by the time Adam turned nine and started adoring superheroes everything changed. That was because Dean, at fourteen, was already killing monsters, and that made him a real life hero in Adam's eyes.

From that point on Sam buried himself in school work and research for the hunts his older brother and father went on. Occasionally he hunted but he could never be good enough in anyone's eyes so he did his best to avoid all of the supernatural. At nineteen, just a week before classes started at the beginning of September, Sam calmly announced that he was leaving for college. Then he walked out of the hotel room the Winchesters were currently living in, despite his father's dumbfounded and furious snarling. Despite the tears trying to escape, he never looked back.

In all those years since that fateful fire, John had never bothered to ask his middle child what he had seen in the nursery that night. In John's opinion he had three sons and only two of them were worth anything. Dean and Adam were good soldiers, for the most part, and eager in the hunt. Sam was simply extra baggage that happened to be good at research. He never thought anything Sam might have experienced was important. He should have.

That night Sam had heard a rustling in his little brother's bedroom. Sleepily drawn from a happy dream where he and Dean were playing in the backyard. He had dropped to the wood floor and pattered out into the hall, stepping cautiously into Adam's nursery. There was a man standing next to Adam's crib. He wasn't Daddy, not broad enough in the shoulders, and he certainly wasn't Mommy. The man turned to look at Sam's tiny three year old form and Sam was confronted with bile yellow eyes. He blinked, curious, as his childish mind struggled to come up with an explanation for that phenomenon.

"Are you a superhero?" he asked at last, mumbling the words shyly. The man smiled with an edge to it, something not very nice, and knelt in front of Sam.

"Sort of like that Sammy," the man told the little boy. "But I'm not exactly the hero. At least not in your story." Sam blinked sleepily at the man who nudged him gently over to stand in the shadows behind Adam's door. "Now you just stand there until I tell you to take Adam and go, okay?" Sam nodded, sticking a knuckle in his mouth and watching with solemn eyes as his mother walked into the room.

" _You_ ," she hissed, looking angrier than Sam had ever seen her before.

"Mary, Mary quite contrary," the yellow eyed man crooned, grinning at her. "Look how you've grown."

"Stay away from my son you bastard," Mommy snarled and the man clicked his tongue, a disapproving sound at odds with his wide grin.

"Such bad language," he chided. "And in front of children too." He beckoned with his fingers slightly and Sam found himself pulled into the beam of the nightlight, knuckle still in his mouth.

"Leave my children alone," Mommy demanded but her voice wavered. She sounded sad.

"Oh I'm leaving Miss Mary," the yellow eyed man said. "But you aren't. You see, this is a direct violation of our deal." Then with a flick of his fingers Mommy was slammed against the wall and rising towards the ceiling. Once she was pinned above Adam's crib the yellow eyed man turned to Sam and smiled that smile again. "Get ready to take your little brother and run Sammy," he said, and that was when Sam's childhood went up in flames.


	2. Chapter One

Sam had left his family behind for Stanford almost four full years ago. He'd regretted the decisions at first, unsure how to behave after leaving behind the family that had defined him but ultimately hadn't needed him. Then he'd met Jess. Jessica Lee Moore was beautiful, confidant, and practically an angel sent to earth. She was a pre-vet major to Sam's pre-law with a wicked sense of humor and a brilliant smile. From the moment he had met her, Sam had been smitten, but to his surprise Jess had been equally taken with the tall, shy boy who had dimples when he smiled wide enough. Now, most of the way through their fourth year of college, they had moved into a neat little apartment in Palo Alto. Unbeknownst to Jess, Sam was looking for rings. His whole life was laid out before him, more than he had ever dared hope for, and that was when his brothers came knocking on his door.

Actually, in retrospect, it probably would have gone better if they would have actually knocked. Instead Sam woke from a deep and peaceful sleep next to Jess at the sound of footsteps in their apartment. He slipped from their bed, careful not to wake his lovely girlfriend, and headed for the kitchen. Whoever had decided to rob their home had just made a huge mistake. Sam had been learning hand to hand combat by the time he was in third grade so any old robber off the street was in for a huge shock.

He rounded the corner, attacked, and realized he was the one in for a surprise. Whoever this was, they could fight. He shifted into full hunting mode, fighting hard and dirty until the light was inexplicably turned on. In the halo of flickering yellow light, Sam had meant to change that bulb about a week ago, he saw Dean for the first time in years. Adam was standing next to the light switch grinning widely at him. "Getting rusty there Sam," Dean said, standing and helping him off the floor. Sam thought of all the sparring sessions with Selene, who was off visiting a friend of hers in India while Sam minded her shop, but didn't say anything because maybe Dean was right. Maybe he was out of practice.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked, confused. Dad had basically disowned him the day he left for college, not that it was any hardship for John Winchester-getting rid of the son he never really wanted anyway, but Sam had never expected to see either of his brothers again. Dean hadn't changed much in four years. There was a new scar, pale in the dim kitchen light, following his jawbone on the right side but he remained otherwise unchanged from Sam's memory of him. Adam had grown taller and filled out from the gawky sixteen year old Sam had left behind, packing on more muscle and new scars.

"What's the matter?" Dean asked with a smirk. "Not happy to see us."

"I didn't think I'd see either of you ever again," Sam replied bluntly, his voice a little too loud and defensive, and then winced when he heard Jess stir. She didn't deserve to be woken up from her peaceful sleep by Sam's problems. Adam flinched a little too and looked strangely guilty, eyes flickering between Dean and Sam.

"We have a problem?" his younger brother blurted out at last. "Dad's missing." Sam figured Dad was probably holed up somewhere with Jim, Jack, and Jose to keep him company but had too much tact to say so.

"How long's he been gone?"

"Almost a week," Adam said, his eyes locked earnestly on Sam's. "And he won't answer our calls." Sam had to admit that this was sounding stranger by the minute. John might have ignored Sam's warnings, protests, and phone calls but he always answered Adam or Dean, or at least called them back within twenty-four hours. 

Sam opened his mouth to ask what Dad was after when Jess came around the corner, rubbing her eyes. "Sam? What's going on?" She was wearing a worn Smurf's t-shirt her younger sister Caroline had gotten her as a joke a couple Christmas's ago and a pair of boys boxers, which she insisted were more comfortably than the kind they made for girls. Jess glanced at Adam and Dean before looking up at Sam with a clear question in her eyes. 

"Jess, these are my brothers, Adam and Dean."

"Oh," Jess said, her eyes brightening.

"Adam, Dean, this is my girlfriend Jess." Adam was beaming at the announcement but Dean was smirking at Jess, the same look that had landed him Sam's prom date in high school.

"I'm just going to change into something more presentable," Jess continued, smiling sweetly at them.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Dean replied, leering a little and then looking startled when Jess glared at him.

"It's nice to meet you," Adam said politely from Dean's left shoulder. "And we're really sorry for barging in on you like this." Jess's expression softened at that and she was smiling again.

"It's no problem at all," she informed Adam, pointedly ignoring Dean. "I'm just going to change and you three can catch up." Then she turned, rose on her tip toes slightly to kiss Sam on the cheek, and then headed for the bedroom.

"She is way out of your league Sammy," Dean said with a wide grin and Sam frowned. The only time Dean ever used Sammy was when he was about to try to steal something from Sam or con him into something.

"What was Dad hunting?" he asked sharply, re-directing his older brother's attention to more pressing matters.

"Hell if I know," Dean replied with a shrug. "But there's EVP on the last voicemail he ever left us so I'm thinking spirit."

"It shouldn't be that hard to find him and take care of everything," Sam pointed out in what he felt was a perfectly reasonable tone. Dean, of course, looked at Sam as if he'd lost his mind.

"We were, uh," Adam spoke up, shuffling awkwardly "We were hoping you would come help us."

"I can't," Sam replied simply.

"Can't or won't," Dean sneered, expression turning dark.

"Listen," Sam said with a heavy sigh, feeling the familiar emotional pinch of being trapped between a furious Dean and a pleading Adam. "It's not that I wouldn't like to help but you both know Dad wants nothing to do with me and I promised I was done hunting."

" _Right_ ," Dean snorted derisively, already turning towards the door. "Come on Adam. I told you this was a waste of time."

"Please come with us," Adam begged, eyes turning wide and puppyish in a way that Sam could never resist. "Just this once."

"You two don't really need me," Sam protested weakly, already feeling himself begin to waver.

"That's not true," Adam replied, all innocence. "You know we're both hopeless at research and if it isn't a ghost we'll both end up clueless and dead."

"Fine," Sam relented. "But I have to be back by Monday."

"What's on Monday?" Adam asked, eyes bright and curious now that he had gotten his way.

"An interview."

"For a job?" Dean cut in with a roll of his eyes. "Skip it."

"For law school." Jess's voice cut into their conversation, bright with hope and pride. "He scored a 174 on his LSAT which is almost unprecedented." Adam looked vaguely confused and happy but Dean just remained unimpressed. Jess frowned. "What's going on?"

"Something's come up," Sam told Jess gently, beginning to regret now that he hadn't told her much about his past. He'd believed that the hunting chapter of his life had been closed for good and, furthermore, had known that Jess would think he was crazy if he brought up the supernatural, so he'd stayed mostly close mouthed about his whole childhood. "I'm going with my brothers for a couple days to sort it out."

"You'll be back by Monday?" Jess asked, eyes wide and earnest. Sam nodded. "Okay," she said, standing on her toes again to kiss him fully on the mouth. "Come on, you have to pack and dress." Sam did so in complete silence, slipping a couple weapons into his bag when he knew Jess wasn't looking. His girlfriend, for her part, didn't fuss but she kept smoothing Sam's things as if she could imprint a reminder of herself on each piece of cloth. "Be careful," she told him once he was heading for their front door.

"Aren't I always?" he asked her with a forced smile. The last thing he saw was her worried face as he shut the door.

Sam didn't fit into the backseat of the Impala any better than when he had before he'd left to college but that was where he was stuck anyway. Dean always drove the car, which was more precious to him than practically anything else in the world, and Adam always got shotgun which left Sam to cram his six foot four frame into the backseat. He settled there and pulled out the paperback novel Jess had shoved into the side pocket of his backpack before he'd left with that and his duffel. It was her battered copy of The Hobbit, complete with all her little notes for an English literature course she'd taken during her first semester of college. He settled into to read as Dean drove, working harder than he remembered needing to in order to block out Dean's obnoxiously loud music. Eventually he drifted off to sleep.

He woke at dawn when Dean parked the Impala in the parking lot of some hotel. "I'm gonna get us a room for the night," his older brother announced, standing and slipping out of the Impala. "You two stay here." Then he was gone without a backwards glance.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, forcing his aching muscles out of the uncomfortably slouch he'd settled in at some point after he'd drifted off to sleep.

"Jericho, California," Adam said through a wide yawn. "I think." Sam nodded, pulling out his blackberry, the most expensive piece of equipment he owned because his laptop was a used piece of junk most of the time, and hacking into the hotel's wifi system. Three minutes later he was at the website of the local newspaper as Dean returned with a room key.

"Missing your girlfriend already?" the oldest Winchester son jabbed as he motioned for Adam to get out of the car.

"Local Boy Missing," Sam read pointedly from the newspaper headline. "Troy Squire, a senior at the local high school, vanished under mysterious circumstances Friday night. He was last heard from driving home where he told his girlfriend, Amy Hein, he would call he right back. His car was discovered this morning, empty, with blood but no evidence of the attacker or of Troy himself. Local police advise not stopping to pick anyone up late at night and to lock your doors and windows." Dean actually had the decency to look ashamed at that.

"We're, uh," he said, flushing slightly. "In room twelve." Sam nodded and stepped out of the Impala without saying another word, backpack and duffel in hand. He snatched the key Dean offered and headed to the indicated room with Adam following on his heels. For a moment he felt himself washed back about eight years to a time where an eleven year old Adam was trailing after him towards the hotel room, chattering on and on about the Harry Potter book he'd just finished while Dad and Dean grabbed the more suspicious looking bags and followed after them.

Sam unlocked the room, unsurprised by both the fact that there were only two twin beds and the grungy look of the room. Large orange flowers, long since faded by sun, were on olive green wallpaper. The bedspreads were a dark blue and newish, which meant that probably wouldn't smell too musty, but the couch which was likely going to be Sam's bed for the next couple days had a sag in the middle and probably springs to poke him on either side. He settled his bags down as Dean closed the door behind them, watching as his older brother tossed his bag on the bed closest to the door before turning back to his phone.

"So you think Dad was here because of the missing kid?" Dean asked and Sam could feel his older brother's eyes on him.

"Troy is the fifth person the vanish along that highway in the past two months," Sam replied. "And this has happened for about four months every year for the past ten years at least. "

"Make sense," Adam said eagerly. "Dad would have traced the case back and figured it was worth a look." Personally Sam thought that their father had probably just seen the rash of murders and decided to check it out but in order to keep the peace he said nothing. It was an old habit that had probably made his sudden announcement that he was leaving for college even more shocking for his family. Sam's motto for most of his life had been not to rock the boat and college was basically flipping the entire boat over.

"So what do you need research boy?" Dean asked with an almost mocking glint in his eye.

"Peace and quiet," Sam replied, already moving to pull his crappy laptop out of his backpack. "Why don't you two take a key and go interview locals? I'm going to look for any suspicious deaths around ten years ago and see what I can dig up." Dean and Adam left without much complaining, even though it wasn't normally Sam's place to come up with a game plan, and Sam settled down to work. There were a few deaths around ten years ago but none of them were suspicious and there wasn't an explanation as to why one of these ghost would be murdering men along a highway. That meant Sam needed to try something else.

He turned his attention toward Centennial Highway. The highways was fairly unremarkable, which left Sam with another dead end. He shifted on the couch which was, as he had predicted, terribly uncomfortable. "Who said it was a ghost anyway?" he grumbled, irritated, and began searching for local legends. Nothing. It seemed that Jericho, California was a pretty unremarkable town, especially if you got rid of the random disappearances along Centennial Highway. Then, by accident, he stumbled upon what he was searching for. Fingers trembling with excitement, he shoved the laptop aside, fishing for his phone only to realize he didn't know either of his brother's numbers. That left him to pace until he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling to a stop.

Dean and Adam stepped inside the dimly lit room a minute later, their eyes both drawn to Sam who was waiting for them. "I found our ghost," he announced triumphantly. "It's a Woman in White."

"So all those guys were unfaithful?" Adam asked with a shrug, taking Sam's word as the gospel truth. Dean was a little more suspicious.

"How do you know?" he demanded sharply, green eyes settled on Sam.

"Constance Welch, after the tragic drowning of her two young children in the bathtub, threw herself off the bridge where Troy Squire and most of the other victim's cars were found," Sam explained. "Every one of the victims were males and all of them already had girlfriends, fiancés, or wives. If you can come up with any other likely theory I'll gladly hear it."

"Fine," Dean relented. "Where's the bitch buried then?"

"That's our problem," Sam admitted. "There's no public record of where Mrs. Welch's body was put to rest."

"Which means her husband buried her," Dean finished. "Fine. We'll worry about that tomorrow." He turned and headed for the door, keys in hand. "By the way," he called back over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him. "We brought food." Then he was gone.

"Bar?" Sam asked as Adam handed over a paper bag. His little brother nodded and Sam sighed. He had hoped Dean wouldn't follow the same route as their father, drinking his feelings into oblivion, but, like most of Sam's hopes, it was not to be. "Have you guys been hunting apart from Dad often?" Sam opened the bag and peered inside, frowning at the greasy wrapper awaiting him. He'd never had much control over his life so when Sam had left hunting he'd started trying to control everything, including what he ate. Health food was a big deal, even if it could be more expensive, and Jess had never questioned that after hearing what Sam had eaten for most his childhood.

Knowing he had to eat, Sam pulled the greasy sandwich out of the bag. Chicken, his mind identified absently as his stomach rolled. Adam watched as he choked down a bite and then shoved the sandwich aside, wiping his hands on a painfully thin napkin and pulling the laptop toward him again as he settled down at the one desk in the room. "I'm going to do some digging, see if maybe I can dig up Constance's grave site or Dad's whereabouts."

Adam shuffled his feet awkwardly, looking more like the young man Sam remembered from a point when Adam had still adored him, and then asked, "Mind if I turn on the TV?"

"Go ahead," Sam said with a wave of his hand. When he looked up hours later, the chicken sandwich congealing in its own grease on the wrapper, Adam was asleep curled up on the second twin bed. Sam smiled, standing and resettling his little brother more comfortably before stealing Dean's comforter and stretching out as best he could on the couch. By the time the oldest Winchester brother returned to the hotel room both of his younger siblings were sound asleep.

Sam woke up just after sunrise with his lower back and shoulders aching. He shifted uncomfortably, eyelids feeling too heavy to lift, and finally forced himself upright. He managed to grab his duffel before he shut himself in the bathroom, taking ten minutes under the warm water to feel human. By the time he stepped back into the hotel room Adam was stirring where Sam had tucked him in, tousled blonde head emerging amongst the pillows. Adam mumbled something that sounded vaguely like Sam's name and he grinned. "Go shower," he prodded gently, frowning when he saw how Dean had collapsed.

His older brother was flopped on the bed closest to the door, all his clothing and shoes still on. The water turned on in the shower and Sam grabbed a key, heading out to get breakfast. He didn't so much as consider taking the Impala. Compared to the car, Sam was expendable. He walked to the local restaurant, ordered what he knew Dean and Adam would like, and headed back. He had been gone only an hour but by the time he returned Dean was awake, dressed in fresh clothing, and furious.

"Where were you?" his older brother snarled as soon as Sam shut the door behind him.

"Breakfast," Sam replied, holding the bag up between them like a peace offering. Dean huffed but snatched the boxes, easily sorting through them. They ate breakfast in silence and Sam left the room to ask the desk clerk if he'd seen their father just to escape the tension. That was when the cops showed up. Ten minutes later Sam was locked up in the local police station with the knowledge that John Winchester was no longer in town. Adam and Dean broke him out hours later to tell him something he already knew. In response to their babbling about Constance and Dad not showing he handed over their father's journal.

Dean silenced instantly, eyes narrowing as he snatched the precious leather bound book from Sam's hand, but Adam turned wide eyes on first one of his older brothers and then the other. "What's going on?"

"Dad just moved on," Sam replied gently. "He left you both coordinates though." Adam brightened at the thought that John hadn't completely abandoned them but Sam just felt tired. "I'll grab my things and hitch a ride back to Palo Alto. You two can head for the coordinates."

"You're not coming with us?" Adam asked, looking very much like a kicked puppy in that moment. Sam forced himself to remember his happy future on a plate. He couldn't give in and go or he'd lose everything.

"I have an interview tomorrow, remember?" he asked gently and Adam sighed heavily.

"Right, the interview." Adam said it the same way someone would announce their own execution and Sam was treated to a bizarre image of someone in professional dress cutting off his head. It wasn't pleasant.

"We'll at least drive you back," Dean said gruffly. Great, another awkward family car ride. Just what Sam wanted to day before his interview to get into law school. Still he didn't protest. Despite leaving his family behind, Sam was still trying not to rock the boat.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry for the late update! To be honest, this was already written a week or so ago but I completely spaced that it was Saturday yesterday and never ended up posting! Secondly, I debated a lot about what this chapter was going to look like before I was finally satisfied although it did end up being a real painful one to read when I was editing. Thank you for your patience!

Sam returned to the apartment he shared with Jess just a couple hours before sunrise. Adam had needed to shake him to wake him up and he climbed out of the car, shutting the door gently behind him. "You sure you don't want to come with us?" Adam asked, leaning his head out the window as Sam headed toward the apartment and Jess.

"Yeah," Sam answered gently, turning back to smile at his little brother. "Call me when you find Dad, okay?"

"Okay," Adam agreed, grinning widely at the promise of contact. Adam always had that little flare of rebellion in him, the one that had kept Sam trying to placate Dad and Dean on one side and Adam on the other on numerous occasions, and the idea of this tiny rebellion against their father's rules seemed to please him. Dean didn't look too happy about the agreement but didn't protest, obviously writing it off as Sam wanted to hear that the job was actually accomplished. Instead he put the Impala and drive and headed down the road, leaving Sam standing alone outside the apartment.

Sam watched his brother's leave with a sense of loss burrowing into his chest. Sure he had Jess, and her family adored him, but at times he missed his own family. Shaking his head at the foolishness of that train of thought, Sam turned and headed for the apartment building. He made his way up the stairs carefully and unlocked he and Jess's home. It wasn't much but it was safe and peaceful and it had Jess so that made it enough.

The scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies made his mouth water. Sam had never really been one for junk food but for Jess's baking he would always make an exception. He picked one up, smiling at the note Jess had left for him before taking a bite. He ate the cookie as he made his way down the hall to their bedroom, frowning when he heard the shower running. Jess should be in bed now, not showering. Even if she couldn't sleep, Jess never got out of bed until sunrise.

"Jess?" he called hesitantly, entering the room and dropping his bags, heading directly towards the bathroom. She didn't answer. He knocked twice on the closed bathroom door but Jess still didn't respond. Sam felt worry twist in his gut. Maybe she had been hurt. Gently he turned the handle and stepped inside, keeping his gaze on the floor at first. He expected to hear a startled, sleepy exclamation from Jess. Instead there was nothing but the sound of water running in the shower. He lifted his gaze only to see the bathroom was empty. When he stuck his hand under the water he found it was running cold.

Now seriously worried, Sam returned to their bedroom. Maybe Jess was curled up on the covers and he'd missed seeing her. The bed was turned down, as if Jess had intended to slip into it after her shower, but she wasn't there. Sam returned to his duffel and dug through it, coming up with a wickedly curved knife. Then he headed back the way he had come, turning right in the hall to enter the living room. Maybe Jess had decided to curl up on the couch for the night with the TV muted. She did that sometimes, when she wasn't feeling well.

The TV was off and Jess was nowhere to be found so, knife in hand, Sam headed across the hall to the kitchen. All the lights were off and Jess was nowhere to be found. Feeling his heart begin to pound and his stomach twist, he hurried back to their bedroom, digging through his bag for his cell phone so he could call 911. The house phone wasn't working right, despite the landlady's numerous attempts to get it fixed, and Sam didn't have a clue where Jess's might be.

Dread and exasperation warred inside him when he realized he'd left his phone with his brothers. He turned his head skyward only to freeze at what he saw there. Jess was pinned to the ceiling, wearing that frilly nightgown her mom had gotten her last Christmas that she absolutely hated but wore when Sam hadn't done the laundry recently. He belly was slit open and as he watched, frozen in horror, a few ruby drops of blood dripped down to land on the sheets of their bed.

" _Jess_ ," he breathed out, hoping desperately that this was all an illusion. Maybe he'd fallen asleep in the Impala and this was just a horrible nightmare.

"Hey Sam, where are you?" Adam called. "You left your phone." That shattered any of Sam's hope that what he was seeing might be an illusion. Adam stepped into the bedroom in time for Jess and all Sam's hope for a normal life where he actually meant something to burst into flames.

The time after Jess combusted into fire and ash was solidified in a series of blurs and frozen moments. Sam wasn't sure how Adam managed to drag him out of the burning apartment, and oh wouldn't Sam have loved to just burn with Jess and all his barely created dreams. He remembered the building blazing, just like it had the night his normal life had become what it was now. He didn't remember speaking to the police but he did remember being prodded into the backseat of the Impala with Adam sitting next to him, exchanging worried glances with Dean. He didn't remember getting inside the hotel room but that was where he woke up, smelling of smoke.

His eyes filled with unshed tears as he lay there, staring at the ceiling. He knew what had happened, the same thing that had happened the fateful night his mother had died, and he knew exactly who was responsible. It had taken years of research for him to discover what he'd seen that fateful night. A demon. A demon with bile yellow eyes had come in and killed his mother and now, Jess. Sam's only real wonder was why.

Why was a demon so interested in the Winchesters? Why them and not another family? It didn't make any sense and despite his digging, Sam hadn't found a satisfactory answer. Worse, he didn't remember everything that happened that night. Maybe if he'd been older he would have remembered more but he'd only been three. Instead he only had his nightmares and vague flashes of memory to go by.

The three of them began digging around Palo Alto, searching for any sign of the killer. Personally, Sam wasn't all that hopeful. Despite Adam's forced cheerfulness and Dean's determination to catch "The son of a bitch who keeps screwing with their family" Sam didn't think the demon was still around. Still he didn't protest; no need to rock the boat. He dug with his brothers, half stuck in a state of shock at Jess's sudden death and half unwilling to start an argument. Then he got the surprise of his life.

He was lying in the dark in their hotel room trying to remember how to breathe properly after an exceptionally bad nightmare. That was when he became aware of the fact that he was being watched. He sat up slowly, stomach twisting nervously and his hands shaking. Whatever was keeping an eye on him felt familiar and twisted. He turned his face slowly towards the door and recognized the figure standing there. Yellow eyes gleamed as they focused on Sam's suddenly frozen form.

"Hello there Sammy." Unlike Dean, who only used the nickname when it would benefit him, the demon actually sounded somewhat affectionate. Sam felt like that was the story of his life; everyone who sounded like they cared about him weren't family and most of them had been monsters.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked softly, voice rough. "Why'd you kill her?"

"I needed you back in the game," the demon replied. "Those two will tear each other apart the moment daddy dearest is out of the way and I need someone to hold them together for the time being. That brings us to you."

"So you killed Jess so I'd hunt again," Sam said flatly, mind spinning a hundred miles a minute.

"Exactly," the demon replied. "I knew you were the smart one. You see, you wouldn't leave Stanford if Jess were still there because, let's face it, we both know your family doesn't need you." The words, spoken aloud by someone else, were a blow to Sam's gut but he knew they were true. "Let's make a deal Sammy," the demon continued and Sam eyed the shadowy figure warily. He had read about deals with demons and knew nothing good ever came for them. "Oh not that kind of a deal," the demon laughed, obviously able to see the disgusted expression on Sam's face. "No souls on the table for this. I just want you to keep your brothers together. You do that and I'll make sure, once our parts are played, that you can live on happily ever after in a perfectly normal life. Deal?"

Sam hesitated, unsure, but the demon's words still rang in his head. _We both know your family doesn't need you_. It took only a moment to decide. "Deal," he said before having to pretend to himself that he didn't see the demon's satisfied smirk before it had vanished into thin air, leaving the stench of sulfur behind. Sam didn't sleep for the rest of the night. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Jess staring at him with accusation and hurt as if asking why he had betrayed her. He didn't have a good answer.


	4. Chapter Three

They had spent two weeks in Palo Alto before Dean and Adam had pulled the plug on their investigation and insisted they move on to find Dad. Sam hadn't protested. Jess was long gone as was, if he was correct about this whole business with the demon, her killer. He had a job to do now, a deal to uphold, and maybe after all this was over he would be able to live a normal life with someone who actually cared about him. Until then he just had to keep Adam and Dean working together, had to keep them from breaking into one of their huge fights and storming off in opposite directions..

Their father had left coordinates in the back of his journal. The coordinates were an often used device during Adam's more rebellious teenage years when John sent his three sons on hunts together just to avoid killing his youngest. The coordinates led them to Raven's Hollow. It was a tiny town ins Massachusetts where the warm weather in California in October was nonexistent. Sam pulled out the few heavier clothes he had, most of his things were lighter to deal with Palo Alto weather that he would most likely see again and still more had burnt in the fire that had cost him Jess. He shivered against the cold bite of the wind as he stepped out of the Impala.

They had stopped at cheap motel as the sun was setting and Dean had checked them in, leaving Sam and Adam to unpack. "Do you think we'll find Dad?" Adam asked as he and Sam dragged the bags into the room, leaving Dean to roar off to the nearest bar to drink his sorrows and worries away. Sam wasn't sure what to say to his little brother's question. Dean would have replied easily, insisting with that constant and almost annoying faith in John Winchester, that they would. Sam wasn't so sure. 

After talking to the demon, Sam knew there was something big going on. There were plans in place, plans that the oldest and youngest Winchesters seemed to be vital to, and he had no idea what that might mean. Furthermore, the demon had mentioned John being out of the way and Sam was fairly certain that meant their father was going to end up dead. "I don't know," he said at last and Adam nodded, accepting that as the honest to God truth. "Are you hungry?" Adam gave Sam a look like he was an idiot and Sam managed half a smile. "Of course, stupid question." He dumped the rest of the bags and said, "I'll go get us something eat."

"Okay," Adam agreed easily, already heading for the twin bed furthest away from the door, television remote in hand. Sam smiled fondly and took the hotel key with him. There was a cheap looking pizza place and a nicer, but probably more expensive, mom and pop diner. Raven's Hollow was barely big enough to support both. Sam headed for the diner. He didn't feel like trying to choke down more grease this evening. His life was bad enough as it was.

A half an hour later he returned to the hotel room with food. Adam perked up the instant Sam shut the door. "Food?" he asked eagerly. Sam held up the bag in answer to the question. Two minutes later they were eating; Sam a salad and Adam spaghetti. They were watching cartoons and laughing, actually relaxed for once, when Dean came storming in.

"Having fun are we?" he snarled. Sam and Adam both froze but while Adam glared up defiantly at Dean, Sam hunched in on himself.

"We were until some drunken asshole came storming in to ruin it all," Adam snapped.

"For your information," Dean snapped back. "People are dying." Sam lunged for the laptop them, flipping it on and waiting impatiently for it to start up.

"Oh and like you wouldn't have drunk away everything had this news somehow not miraculously reached you," Adam hissed.

"For your information, my bar visits are to gather information."

"Your bar visits are an excuse to try to drink yourself to an early grave just like Dad. You drink so you don't have to feel emotions."

"Who died?" Sam cut in sharply before they could get to blows.

"A girl," Dean said, his voice still sharp as he turned toward Sam. "Ellie Holcomb." Sam searched the name and found exactly why Dean was so upset. Ellie Holcomb had just turned six. She was tiny with dimples and wavy brown hair and big blue eyes and she had been found drowned in a place called Miller's Pond.

"She's the tenth girl to have drowned in Miller's Pond," Sam said with a frown. "There's two a year who have died for the last four years, one at the beginning of the week and one at the end. Ellie was the first for this year."

"That's why Dad gave us the coordinates," Adam said, realization dawning on his face. "So we can stop this." Sam held back a snort, knowing Dad just wanted them to stay away while he worked on whatever he was doing. John Winchester had always been a secretive man, preferring not to share most of his mission or methods with even his own flesh and blood. Sam knew this from bitter experience. There had been too many hunts where the four Winchesters had stepped into a mess, someone had gotten gravely injured, and only John had really known what was going on.

"Yeah," Dean replied with a snort. "And we already fucked up."

"We can stop the next death from happening," Sam said gently, trying to soothe his older brother's already raging temper. "If we can figure out what's killing them."

"So get researching geek boy," Dean ordered sharply. "Because we have work to do." 

His tone was as deadly as any well sharpened knife slipping between ribs to expertly reach the heart so Sam bowed his head over the computer without protest as his two brothers slipped into their beds. He would find what was killing people, drowning them in Miller's Pond, and move forward with the demon's promise ringing in his ears. The promise that some day he could have a safe, normal life with no demons hunting him. A life where maybe he would matter.

He dug into the history of Raven's Hollow. The town had all kinds of strange happenings. A man, one of the town's founding fathers, had murdered his own family in an ancient, derelict home on one edge of town. Another incident was a violent car crash in the town square which had led to a fire that had burned down half the town but during which none of the original buildings of the town. A third one involved a tornado and possible witchcraft over a small chunk of land. None of these incidents explained what was going on at Miller's Pond.

That was when, at about four in the morning, Sam turned his coffee charged attention towards the pond itself. Miller's Pond had been named after one of the town's two founders, Jacob Miller and Isaac Raven, and until six years ago had been a peaceful destination for local residents during the summer. Then one fateful fall afternoon during an unseasonably warm October day the Kolb family had gone with several others to visit the pond. The Kolbs had three daughters, ages thirteen, nine, and six, and all three were decent swimmers. The girls swam most the day but close to sunset the youngest, six year old Audrey Kolb, had gotten some kind of muscle cramp. The pond, which was a misnomer considering how deep it went, had swallowed her before anyone at the shoreline had been able to reach her. There had been a memorial service that the whole town attended days later and Audrey Kolb had been buried in the local cemetery just six days after her death. Both days coincided with the drownings perfectly.

Sam leaned back against the lump couch cushions with a sigh. This meant that tomorrow night they'd need to dig up Audrey Kolb's grave to salt and burn what was left of her body, probably nothing more than a skeleton by now. It would be an unpleasant task but it would get the job done and no other small children would be drowning in Miller's Pond any time soon. That thought in mind, Sam sent the laptop to sleep and settled in for the few hours of rest he could get before his brothers woke in the morning.

At nine the next morning, armed with a cup of warm coffee (actually the stuff he sort of liked since it was Adam who got it), he explained what he found. "So what?" Dean asked when he was finished. "This little girl drowns people because she never got to live past six? Some kind of revenge thing?"

"That is fucked up," Adam said with a sad shake of his head. Personally Sam thought that Audrey probably was lonely and wanted a friend, not realizing that she killed all her potential playmates, but he didn't say so. He wasn't going to rock the boat.

"It's a simple fix," he told them instead. "All we need to do is salt and burn her remains and no one else will die." Dean and Adam nodded, Dean grinning at the thought of burning something else. Of course, as was common with the Winchester family, the whole process didn't go as smoothly as it should have.

It started with actually finding Audrey Kolb's grave. It had been simple enough on paper but in a dark graveyard with a little girl ghost prancing everywhere dripping water and turning signs like a bad cartoon it was more difficult. By the time they managed to get to her grave, Audrey had passed by playful and was growing angry. Her new friends weren't playing the way she thought they ought to and as a ghost, and a rather spoiled six year old, she had decided to fix the problem. Unfortunately her version of fixing involved throwing rocks.

The first one was fist sized and bounced off Adam's shoulder. The second one was marginally bigger and smacked hard on Sam's wrist. "Ouch," Adam muttered, rubbing his shoulder. Sam nodded slightly in agreement, twisting his sore wrist.

"When she starts throwing boulders then we'll worry," Dean said and then was promptly smacked in the jaw by a fist sized rock. "Son of a bitch, that stings," he snarled and Adam snickered in amusement. "Shut up Adam." Adam growled, no longer bright and amused but sharp and hurt, and Sam sighed, casually ducking under another rock.

"Let's just get this over with," he said, taking the first shovel full of dirt out of Audrey Kolb's grave. The rocks came pelting thick and fast, making the Winchesters hunch over and wince when they connected. They dug as quickly as they could, Dean cursing the entire time, and rushed to salt and burn Audrey Kolb's bones. The ghost vanished in a blaze of flame with a shriek of fury, leaving the three brothers alone. Sam wondered absently about what Jess would think of him if she could see him now.

They returned to the hotel room, sore and silent, and Sam fell asleep on the couch waiting for his turn to shower, wrist throbbing. He woke just after sunrise choking down a scream. He could see Jess burning above him, that image was seared in his brain, but this time it hadn't been Jess. Instead it had been his mother and a demon with yellow eyes was shoving Adam into his arms, telling him to run with a wild smile on its face. He stood, legs shaking and body soaked in sweat, and headed for the shower. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep anytime soon.


	5. Chapter Four

The ghost loomed over him with a cruel sneer, her hair hanging in wild tendrils across her face like snakes. The night hadn't started this way for Sam. Since Raven's Hollow the three brothers had been working case after case, searching for any sign of their father or the demon. They had found neither and tempers had been running high when Sam had found this particular case. Dean and Adam had thought it had been a werewolf ripping the hearts out of the victims under the light of the full moon. Sam had argued, insisting that it was a spirit. Now he had all the proof he needed to say "I told you so" but he probably wasn't going to live long enough to do so.

The ghost's name was June Weathers and after catching her husband with another woman she had murdered them both, cutting their hearts out in a jealous rage, and then killed herself by drowning. Now she was back, wreaking havoc and leaving a trail of dead bodies behind. She'd also been a staunch believer in the supernatural before she died which probably explained her fixation with full moons.

Now, with his killer looming over him, Sam's thoughts turned to Jessica. The way she laughed, her sweet smile, her constant clumsiness which led to bruises that she was never quite sure where they came from some mornings. He could almost smell the scent of her lavender shampoo. Above him the ghost froze, her head tilted slightly in puzzlement. She studied her, unsure what was going on. He should be dead right now, just like every single one of June's other victims. "You love her," the ghost rasped suddenly and Sam wondered if she had read his mind. "The golden sunflower girl."

That, Sam decided, was a surprisingly apt description of Jess. Especially since she had absolutely adored sunflowers and had photographed them every chance she'd gotten. Jess hadn't had much talent in the way of drawing but Sam had sketched some of the pictures she had taken for her. "Yeah," he forced out with a watery laugh. "It's ironic, isn't it? The worthless child pining after the dead girl." Those words hurt to say but it was the honest to God truth.

The ghost shook her head then, hair starting to hang more naturally around her face. In fact, she seemed to look less feral now that she was talking. "It's beautiful," she replied. "Beautiful and tragic." Her tone was wistful and heartbroken, making Sam's throat feel tight. Then she looked at him with dark eyes. "Do you know what I did?"

"Yes." Sam didn't see any point in lying. For some reason June seemed to be able to see his thoughts or memories and either one would tell her the truth even if he didn't. June smiled at him sadly.

"I was so happy on my wedding day," she told him. "I loved Jeremiah so very much and I thought he loved me. It was the best day of my life. Actually we were married for two years and, for the most part, they were the best years of my life. Then I found him with Emily."

"I'm sorry," Sam told her and the sad smile was back again.

"I never was like other girls," she told him grimly. "Sometimes, when I touched people, I got impressions of them; strong memories. It's only gotten stronger since I died. When I hugged him one day I got impressions of him with someone else. I didn't want to believe but once I saw it I had no choice. I probably shouldn't have done what I did but they deserved it. And so did everyone else I've killed. But you don't." She withdrew some and Sam sat up, studying her with sympathetic eyes. "Tell me about her?"

"Her name was Jessica Lee Moore," he informed June, studying the swampy land before him. "She was beautiful and bright and she shouldn't have loved me but she did. She loved baking, cooking, anything to do with a kitchen really, and she volunteered at a local animal shelter. She was in the pre-vet program and she was going to be amazing. She loved sunflowers and long hikes and good books but she couldn't draw a thing past stick figures. She was going to be my happy ending." His voice was choked up by the end and when he looked over at June she was crying silently.

"She sounds lovely," the spirit told him gently. Then she reached over and took his hand. Sam allowed her to lead him deeper into the swamp, not caring that it might be to his death. It didn't matter if he lived or died anymore. The only person who had really cared was Jess and she was dead.

June led him to a shallow part of the swamp, filled in with slippery silt, that might have once been a pond. There were a few bones sticking out from the silt and still more buried among the weeds. "This was the lake I drowned myself in," June told him. "No one dug me out and buried me because they saw my suicide as shameful. My bones are all here now, brought up by the swamp. I trust you know what to do."

"Yes," Sam said, eyes fixed on the messy remains. When he finally turned to look at her, June was gone.

He spent the next few hours removing the remains from mud and muck and weeds, wrapping them all in his outer shirt except for the skull which he carried. Once he was sure he had gotten up every bone, long past sunrise and to the point where he was covered in muck and sweat. Then he had to trudge out of the swamp before salting and burning the remains with the meagre supplies he had in his bag. By the time Sam returned to the hotel room he was dirty, tired, and irritated.

"Where have you been?" Dean snapped at him. "We thought you might have been killed."

_Like you care_ , Sam wanted to say but forced himself to stay silent and not rock the boat. "Slting and burning the remains of a spirit that almost ripped my heart out," he replied in a dead voice that shocked Dean into silence. Sam was shocked moments later when Adam barreled almost headfirst into him, clinging to him tightly despite the muck. Sam carefully peeled his younger brother off of him and mustered up a wan smile. "Hey, I'm here now," he told Adam who smiled at him with watering eyes. "Now go get cleaned up so I can shower and we can get going, okay?"

"Okay," Adam agreed and headed into the bathroom, leaving his two older brothers alone.

"Nothing from Dad yet?" Sam asked, not sounding remotely hopeful.

"He'll show up," Dean retorted angrily. "You'll see." Sam nodded, already knowing he could say nothing at all to salvage the situation, and slipped silently into the bathroom the instant Adam exited it. Tensions between the siblings were high and none of them spoke when Dean drove long into the night. Then, at sunrise the next morning, their father called.


	6. Chapter Five

"You're just Daddy's good little soldier," Adam snarled at Dean from across the Impala, hands clenched into fists. Ever since John Winchester's call that morning, tensions had been at an all-time high. It was Adam who had answered the phone and gotten a few answers from John, the man revealing he was right on the tail of what had killed Mary and Jess. Sam already knew exactly what had killed both women, and why in Jess's case, and was not exactly eager to find the creature. Adam was the opposite. That had led directly to the current screaming match between Adam and Dean as occasional cars zoomed by on the highway.

Sam leaned against the heated metal of the car, resting his forearms against the trunk, and watched small children peer out their windows at his brothers. "Dad gave us a job to do and I'm going to do it," Dean snapped back. "People are dying. Only you would find shame in doing something that would stop that."

"People are important, I know that," Adam retorted, exasperated. "But Dad is getting close to the thing we've been hunting our entire lives, the thing that killed the mother I don't even remember. If there's even the slightest chance that would could end this all, this whole crazy revenge scheme, why don't you want to grab it with both hands?"

They were going around in circles by now. Dean and Adam had been arguing for the past twenty minutes and after little sleep and no nightmare free dreaming Sam just didn't have the energy to intervene. "We have a job to do Adam. Let's do it before more people die."

"Can you just think for yourself for once?" Adam all but wailed back. "I mean, seriously, no one else thinks of their father's word as if it's the law. Why do you?"

"Because Dad is always right."

"No he isn't," Adam screamed, face turning bright red. "He's a stupid, selfish jerk who cares more about his vendetta than the welfare of his own children."

"He's done nothing but tried to protect us."

"He's done nothing but tried to control us," Adam shrieked. Sam rested his head against the heated metal of the trunk. It pounded in time with his heart as his two brother's continued to yell. The headache had started up the instant he'd woken from some nightmare he could no longer remember and it had only gotten worse as the morning progressed. He hadn't yet bothered to pull any over-the-counter pain killers from their stash.

"Sam doesn't seem to have a problem with following orders," he heard Dean snap, voice echoing like it was from far away.

"Sam just lost the girl he loved. He isn't thinking clearly."

"We're not going to California, Adam," Dean hissed, the low tone of his voice making it obvious that the decision was final. Sam felt the muscles in his shoulders bunch, knowing what was going to come next.

"Well fuck you," Adam sneered. "Because I am." There was a moment of silence from the Winchester brothers. Cars whizzed by with a low, humming noise sending puffs of hot air to blow over their skin. "Sam?" Adam's voice was soft and uncertain, holding traces of the child he had once been. Sam looked up and met watery blue-green eyes. He wished he could fix this, make it better, but for once he didn't know how.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, voice low and heavy. Adam nodded once with a stubborn set to his mouth, not allowing any of his tears to fall. Dean got into the driver's seat of the Impala, slamming the door sharply, but Sam watched as his little brother walked away. When he couldn't see Adam any longer, Sam slipped into the back seat.

"You could sit up front," Dean said after five miles of driving the opposite direction Adam had walked. Sam just hummed under his breath. Dean sighed then and turned on his music, cranking the volume to fill up the empty space Adam had left behind. It didn't work. They arrived in Burkittsville, Indiana hours later, grouchy and silent and worrying.

Dean spoke to the locals, waving a picture around and claiming that he was a lost relative, while Sam fretted. He found himself toying with his phone, wondering about calling Adam. He was only nineteen and he was on his own. Sam remembered how it felt to be nineteen and scared and on your own for the first time. He remembered the frantic beating of his heart against his chest, the way his palms had been damp with sweat, and the nervous twisting of his stomach. None of the sensations had been pleasant and Sam had wanted nothing more, for the first few weeks, than to turn his back on college and run back to his family. He hadn't done it but only because John had disowned him.

With that in mind, Sam dialed Adam's number and listened to the phone ring. "H-hello?" Adam's voice wavered when he answered and Sam felt a pang of sympathy rush through him.

"Hi Adam. You okay?"

"Y-yeah," Adam replied shakily but he didn't sound very convinced. They sat there for several long moments listening to each other breathe. "I'm at a bus station." Adam's voice sounded more steady now and Sam relaxed some.

"That's good," he said. "When does the bus leave?"

"Not till morning," Adam replied. "So I'm sleeping in the station tonight."

"Adam?" Sam heard a female voice say from somewhere near the phone.

"Just a minute Meg," Adam replied, muffling the received with his hand as he spoke. If it had been Dean calling, he would have made some snarky comment about finding a good lay but Sam was not his older brother. "Sorry about that," Adam said to Sam.

"No problem," Sam replied easily. "Stay safe, okay? And call me if you need anything."

"I will," Adam promised and hung up the phone. Dean didn't comment as he walked around the corner and saw Sam's phone disappear.

"Come on," he said gruffly. "There's a place I want to check out nearby." Sam sighed but slipped into the car, the back seat again, unwilling to start up the argument that Adam's name would begin. Thirty miles away the demon inside Meg Masters watched Adam hang up the phone and smiled. Everything was going according to plan.


	7. Chapter Six

A haunted scarecrow was not the strangest thing Sam had ever researched but it was close. It was late evening now and with Dean off at the local restaurant trying to figure out what was going on with the local apple orchard, Sam was looking into dead end after dead end. Sure, ghosts could sometimes attach themselves to something especially precious to them but Sam had never thought anyone could see a raggedy old scarecrow as precious. That also didn't explain the tattoo. The scarecrow Sam and Dean had found had the same tattoo on its arm as the man who had recently gone missing.

Frustrated with his current track of research, Sam turned his attention toward local news, hoping that maybe he would find something unusual. Dean wandered back in, slightly drunk, hours after sunset and Sam still hadn't found anything. Dean fell asleep almost instantly, snoring the way he had when they were small children all curled in on each other after their mother's death. Sam smiled faintly, heart aching, and rubbed his dry eyes. His head throbbed along with his heartbeat and his muscles felt like lead but he knew what awaited him when he closed his eyes. Jess's death had reignited Sam's nightmares about his mother's death. Still, against his will, his eyes drifted closed.

_He was lying curled up under the covers. It was a chilly November evening and the blankets made a warm nest around his tiny body, just the way he liked it. A warbling sound from the bedroom next to him, Adam's room, and Sam lifted his heavy head for a moment. Then he heard footsteps and settled down again. Mommy or Daddy had gone in to make it better. He was almost asleep again when the warbling coo came filtering in. Sam made a very displeased sound and Adam babbled a bit in the next room._

_Reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed, Sam waited for a minute to see if his baby brother would silence. When it became obvious that Adam was going to keep chattering to someone he rolled out of bed and padded softly toward the bedroom. The light from the hallway fell in a thin strip in Adam's room, revealing a figure that was neither Daddy nor Mommy. Sam stared, puzzled, and the man turned to show bile yellow eyes. "Hello Sam," he said, voice cool and slimy and suddenly the world dissolved into blood and fire._

Sam jolted awake gasping for breath and shaking all over. His skin felt clammy and his neck ached from where he'd fallen asleep with his head pressed against the keyboard. The tiny clock in the corner of the computer screen, once he'd roused it, said it was three forty-four in the morning. Sam knew instantly that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep that night. He was too wired from the adrenalin and panic from his dream. He turned his attention to searching through regional reports, looking for anything unusual.

After twenty minutes of searching through crop and weather reports at just after five in the morning Sam realized he'd hit the jackpot. Everywhere else around Burkittsville was going through a major drought. Crop growth was at an all-time low and farmers were worrying frantically about the coming harvest. In contrast, the tiny town he and Dean had stumbled upon was doing just fine, the way it had since the town had been established. Sam compared crop reports as the sun rose, ignoring the fact that his eyes burned and his older brother was stirring in the bed closest to the door. He had found something, he knew he had, but he just wasn't sure what.

Sam didn't hear Dean head for the shower as he immersed himself in legends and mythology dealing with growth and harvest. He immediately dismissed several as out of place or absurd. That left him with a list of options to pursue. He thought that perhaps Native American legends were the most likely but Athabaskan had been native to the tribes far west from Burkittsville and the Mapuche people of Chile had a nature spirit but it was a little far-fetched to believe one would travel this far for apples. That left him back at a dead end with a thousand possibilities.

"Found anything yet?" Dean asked sharply, cutting through Sam's daze of frustration. The middle Winchester knew he wasn't the chosen companion for Dean, or anyone else in his family, but sometimes it hurt badly to be so blatantly treated like that.

"Nothing," he grumbled, running both hands through his hair. "Well, something but it doesn't make sense." Dean waited impatiently as Sam organized his thoughts, foot tapping sharply on the floor like a disappointed parent. "In recent years the surrounding farming areas have suffered. Drought, flooding, bugs, disease, the works really. Meanwhile Burkittsville has brought in a good crop year after year. Whatever is going on here, it has something to do with the apples but I'm not sure what. Or how the scarecrow factors in."

"Great" Dean grumbled. "Nice job Joe College." Sam slumped in his chair as Dean stomped out of the room, shoes and car keys in hand. Once his older brother was gone he turned his attention towards the ceiling, wondering why he even bothered. A long time ago, when he'd been fourteen and lonely and desperate, he held the barrel of a gun under his chin and considered pulling the trigger. He hadn't done it, thinking that perhaps this was just a low point in his life. Now he wondered if everyone would have been better off if he'd just killed himself then.

Shaking his head to ward away those useless regrets, Sam turned his attention toward local religions, hoping he would find something worthwhile. That was how he accidentally stumbled on what might be the answer to his entire problem. A former hometown boy had become a college professor and had returned home on sabbatical to write a book about the Vanir, Norse gods associated with a variety of attributes including nature. And nature could mean the harvest. Curious about the subject, and wondering why the professor would chose to come here instead of a place that could offer more extensive research and information, Sam decided to head to the local library. Maybe it would have an extensive collection on Norse mythology and he could find exactly what he was looking for. It turned out to be one of the worst mistakes during a hunt that Sam had ever made.

The library did have a rather large collection of books on Norse mythology. The librarian hadn't so much as blinked when Sam had casually made his way over to it, apparently it was famous enough to attract the attentions of more than one person who wandered through Indiana. The problem had become when she'd discovered what exactly Sam was researching. "You don't have interest in something more common?" she had inquired, her tone suggesting that it would be better if he listened to her. "Like Thor perhaps? Or Loki?" It took Sam less than a minute to process the threat and realize he had stumbled onto what was going on in Burkittsville. He'd agreed, politely, with her, and said he'd just been curious. He hadn't, however, allowed her to reshelf the books. She'd returned ten minutes later with three local police officers. 

Now Sam was in a basement somewhere tied up. It wasn't the best situation he had been in but it wasn't, by far, the worst. The worst had involved ghouls and a particularly gory axe. Sam did his best not to think about that hunt. The positive thing about this was that he now knew exactly what was going on in Burkittsville. The local people had a god of their own, the scarecrow, who was responsible for the apple harvest. They sacrificed people every month to the scarecrow to keep their crops strong and untouched by problems farmers in other areas struggled against. Unfortunately he was about to be the next sacrifice. That thought won a hysterical little giggle out of him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, dying. Maybe they'd let him see Jess one more time before he went where it was worthless souls got tossed to… Maybe they'd hit his head harder than he thought.

The door to the basement opened and two of the young cops who had taken Sam out earlier dragged a figure down between him. Sam had automatically closed his eyelids most of the way to block out the bright sunlight and now he let them drift completely down so the two men would think he was asleep. "We've got the second sacrifice," the older of the two said gruffly. "We're ready for tonight, if only just."

"Are you sure this'll work?" the second one asked, sounding wary. "Normally it calls for a guy and a girl."

"Extenuating circumstances," the first said and Sam could almost hear the shrug that accompanied that statement. "It'll have to do." Sam waited until their footsteps faded away and her heard the basement door shut and lock before opening his eyes and turning his head to see who was tied up next to him. He bit back a groan at what he saw. Dean was tied up, unconscious, like so much dead weight.

"Nice job, Great and Might Hunter," Sam grumbled half-heartedly, trying to work his wrists free of the ropes that bound him. "Now we're both stuck and we're about to be dead." His arm twisted oddly as he tried to work free of the rope and something jabbed him sharply. He winced and shifted until the pendant Selene had given him. It was a Greek symbol that she claimed represented the moon. She'd given it to Sam last Christmas with something knowing in her eyes that even now puzzled him. That was when Dean groaned.

Sam turned his head slightly and watched as his older brother slowly roused. Dean's eyes looked murky and unfocused, never a good sign, and it took a moment for them to settle on Sam. "Wha' happened?"

"From what I can tell you got yourself hit on the head by angry locals and now we're both about to be sacrificed to a scarecrow that happens to be a Norse god," Sam replied, irritation creeping into his voice. If they didn't think of something fast, both of them would die and then no one would be around to watch after Adam. He didn't have time for Dean to be unfocused. "Any other stupid questions?" Dean's eyes went wide at that, as if some girl he'd been hitting on in a bar had slapped him and stomped away with a toss of her hair. Sam went back to working on the rope.

When the men came back for the brothers both were still tied up and neither one was talking. They were dragged to an apple orchard and tied to two of the trees an hour before the sun set, the townspeople slinking off into the growing shadows. "Well this is great," Dean grumbled. "Nice going Sam."

"I'm not the one who antagonized the locals," Sam replied not, at least to him, unreasonably.

"Like I knew it was gonna get us sacrificed," Dean snarled back.

"I though Dean and myself were the ones who were supposed to argue," an amused voice announced, cutting through Sam's growing panic and irritation.

"Adam," he breathed out, relieved.

"I thought you didn't want to help save people," Dean barked at Adam, always so eager to restart their old arguments.

"Not now," Sam said. "Argue later, finish the case now."

"Right," Adam agreed, already scrambling to untie Sam. "Why are you guys all tied up here anyway?"

"The local people have a local god called the Vanir," Sam explained, standing and shrugging off the loose ropes as Adam moved to untie Dean. "They're planning on sacrificing Dean and I to it, in the form of a scarecrow, in order to keep the harvest strong."

"Nasty," Adam said with a wrinkled nose. "But I have to ask, what scarecrow?"

"The one right over there you-" Dean started to snarl and then froze. "Shit."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, staring where the scarecrow had been just a few minutes before. "Shit." The scarecrow was nowhere to be found, already hunting its prey. "We have to stop it before it kills again."

"You aren't worried that you're on the menu?" Adam asked, eyes wide.

"No," Sam told him easily. "Come on, we have to burn the tree."

They ran, Dean cursing under his breath as they went and Sam trying not to flinch at the strangled scream that rang out behind them. Adam had a lighter in his pocket, he was almost the pyromaniac Dean was, and, as if to prove that point, Dean had a bottle of gasoline. In short order the tree was blazing merrily and something let out an unholy, inhuman shriek in the woods behind them. The scarecrow bumbled towards them, blazing. Sam quickly stepped in front of Adam, shielding his little brother from the coming danger. The necklace from Selene thunked against his collarbone and he was almost sure that the scarecrow's eyes fixed on the charm before the flames consumed it entirely.

"So what happened to wandering off on your own and never seeing us again?" Dean jibed when they headed back towards the Impala, the apple orchard no longer full of dangers.

"I just had a feeling," Adam replied with a shrug.

" _A feeling_?" Dean asked with a skeptical snort.

"Leave it alone, both of you," Sam ordered tiredly. To his surprise, they both did, though they glared at one another when they thought he wasn't looking. When they reached the Impala, Adam's face wrinkled suddenly as he pulled something out of his pocket.

"By the way," his little brother said, handing over a folded piece of paper. "I was told to give you this." He and Dean headed for the Impala but Sam stood there frozen, staring at the words on the paper. Just two little words; _Strike one_.


	8. Chapter Seven

Ghouls were always a nasty business. Anything that ate people was trouble but Ghouls were better at blending in with common society. It made them difficult to detect and difficult to kill without getting thrown in jail. And normally Sam was the one who ended up in jail. Today had gone a little differently. Dean had completely gone off on a witness, yelling at her when she refused to tell him anything more. In retaliation she had called the police.

Ordinarily Sam wouldn't worry about Dean being locked away but the note had made it completely clear that if a short period of separation wasn't acceptable. Dean's untimely arrest could very well be the end of Sam. That thought had led him to this point, wearing a suit and tie and pretending to be a fed while Adam waited in the hotel room. The clerk at the counter was shaking a little as she brought up Dean's file and the proper release papers. "I'm sorry," she apologized to him with a plastic smile that belayed her nervousness. "The computers here are a little outdated so it takes longer than it probably should to bring up the paperwork."

"That's fine," he told her with a false smile plastered on his face. "You work with what you have. I understand that." She gave him a nervous smile and then turned back to her computer, fingers tapping nervously on the counter. Sam held back a sigh. The hunt hadn't started this way. They'd picked up the case from one of Dad's contacts, Sam had long ago given up keeping track of the names of those hunters who would still deal with John Winchester, and since they had yet to find Dad they'd taken it. Dean and Adam had needed some outlet to take out their frustrations on something besides each other anyway.

They'd pulled into Lowell after twelve hours of driving and checked into a motel, Sam working on digging up information while Adam and Dean talked to possible witnesses. It had taken a while for Sam to come up with a ghoul as their monster of the week and by then the townfolk were already growing suspicious of Dean. Sam and Adam's older brother had been drinking increasingly more often and it had not improved his temperament. The shouting matches between Adam and Dean had increased, Sam struggling to break them up before they were thrown out of the hotel. That was, naturally, when a ghoul grabbed Adam.

Sam had tracked his younger brother down via cell phone, apparently the ghoul in question wasn't terribly with the times, to the basement of an older woman named Betty Lou Carson. Betty Lou had been nowhere to be seen but her granddaughter, Sarah, had been when they'd broken into the basement, tied up along with Adam. It had been Sarah that Dean had gone off at and she'd called the police. She'd only let them arrest Dean, shooing Sam and Adam into the shadows with a grateful smile. Sam and Adam had watched as the police drove off with Dean in the backseat, lights no longer flashing.

"Here's the paperwork," the secretary said and he heard the printer hum. She clicked off to the back room in her high heels and then returned with the printed papers. She snatched up a red marker and turned through the pages, putting a couple red x's next to blank lines. "I just need you to sign where we've marked and we'll bring him out." Sam nodded his thanks and took the pen she offered him, signing David Lebanon on each line in smooth cursive writing. Long ago he'd learned that if you hesitated when signing your false name people began to get suspicious so he practiced each of his false identities until signing their names felt almost as natural as signing his own. The secretary looked over the paperwork, smiled sweetly at him, and headed into the back room. She left Sam with the promise that this part would only take a moment.

Dean looked anything but pleased when he was brought back and uncuffed, his things returned to him, but he kept his silence until they were safely inside the Impala. "What took you so long geek boy?" he demanded. "I had to spend the night there."

Sam wanted to snap at Dean that if he hadn't wanted to spend the night in jail then he shouldn't have started screaming at Sarah but he bit that back. "Getting you out takes time," he said instead. "Besides, all the hard work is done now. Adam knows who the ghoul is so we can finish this case and move on." Dean grunted and cranked up the music, Sam flinching as the beginning of a headache started throbbing to the beat. They didn't speak the entire drive back to the motel.

Adam was out the door the instant Dean threw the car into park, duffel thrown over his shoulder. Sam slid out of the passenger seat to let his little brother in and headed back into the hotel room for the rest of their things, hoping that Adam and Dean wouldn't be arguing. It was vain hope. "We're not any closer to finding Dad," Adam was snarling at Dean. "And then you had to go and fuck it up worse by getting arrested."

"Well if your new girlfriend wouldn't have refused to tell us anything-"

"Fuck you Dean!" Adam interrupted sharply. "I knew everything she did and you didn't even think it was worth asking me anything."

"Now isn't the time for this," Sam said sternly, stepping in between his arguing brothers. He'd done this more than once, been hit for it more than once as well. "We have a ghoul to get rid of before we skip town and if we dawdle too long someone at the precinct will figure out we're not really feds." Both of his brothers gave him sour looks but nodded, heading for their seats. The drive to the ghouls home was uncomfortable, to say the last. Sam's fingers tapped out the beat of a song Jess had particularly loved, trying to wick away that nervous energy.

The house was at the edge of town, a piece of luck for once in their miserable lives. The house looked lonely and empty, a single car parked crookedly in the driveway. The three brothers stepped out in synch and headed for the trunk for weapons. Ghouls were one of the few creatures that you could kill with a bullet which made disposing of them easier than most other things the Winchesters were faced with on a regular basis. 

The door swung open with a touch of Dean's hand and the three exchanged nervous looks. It was never a good thing when the monster simply welcomed them in to its home. They stepped inside, Dean clearing the room with Adam and Sam covering his back, to the smell of fetid meat. "Hasn't this freak ever heard of a freezer?" Adam asked, wrinkling his nose up in disgust.

"It didn't know to destroy your cell so we couldn't trace you via GPS," Sam pointed out reasonably.

"So probably no," Adam groaned as Dean moved on the next room.

"Get your asses moving," Dean demanded sharply. "We don't have all day."

"Yes Dad," Adam grumbled, heading into the room Dean hadn't with Sam covering him. They searched the main floor in silence before meeting up in the first room they'd cleared with nothing.

"Basement or upstairs?" Dean asked.

"What?" Adam taunted with false shock. "You're actually asking us what to do?" Dean growled and Sam found himself stepping in between his brothers for the second time that day.

"We'll check the basement first," he told them firmly. "That's where the ghoul kept Adam before so that is likely where the creature went to ground."

"How the fuck would you know?" Dean demanded.

"Okay, fine," Sam said with a heavy sigh. "You and Adam go check the upstairs without killing each other. I'll check the basement." He waited until they both nodded and then headed down the rickety steps, groaning under his weight, and into the basement. It was dark, water dripping from spots in the ceiling to tap him on the forehead. He flinched at the first touch and then steadied himself. He had a job to do.

"Well, well, well," a smooth voice purred. "You weren't the brother I was expecting to see." Sam turned slowly, heart thundering in his chest, so the flashlight beam illuminated a young woman with dark hair standing over the ghoul's mangled body. "Hello Samuel Winchester," she said with a wicked smirk. "My name is Meg."


	9. Chapter Eight

Sam didn't know who Meg was but he didn't trust her. She'd introduced herself as another hunter who'd met Adam during his time apart from his brothers. Adam had greeted her eagerly enough to make her story seem true but all Sam could think about was the sinister quality to her smile and the ghoul's dead body underneath one of her boots. Whatever Meg Masters was, he doubted she was human. 

"I didn't know you were a hunter," Adam said in a low tone when they were all settled at a late night truck stop diner. They'd made it an hour and a half away from the town with the ghouls before Dean had pulled over for food. Meg, who had settled in the backseat next to Sam, had hummed along with Dean's atrociously loud music and had smirked nastily at Sam whenever she saw that neither of his brother's was watching.

"I don't exactly advertise it," Meg replied with a shrug, popping a french fry into her mouth. "Mmm," she purred, eyes closing in bliss. "I always forget how fucking good these things are." Then her eyelids snapped up and she grinned at Adam. "You didn't advertise that you were a hunter either."

"Yeah," Adam said, flushing awkwardly and glancing down at the tabletop. "Well like you said, it isn't exactly something to advertise." 

Normally Sam would have been mildly amused by Adam's embarrassment as his baby brother tried to flirt with a slightly older woman but right now the feeling of unease made the entire situation uncomfortable. "I was on my way to another hunt when I spotted the thing about the ghoul and, well, I just couldn't resist." Dean and Adam both seemed to be buying Meg's little story but Sam just wasn't convinced. The nasty little looks Meg kept sending him certainly wasn't helping matters.

They drove until morning, dropping Meg off at a nice looking red motorcycle so she could follow along behind them, but Sam couldn't sleep. While his brother's crashed, exhausted by the hunt and the events before it, Sam headed outside, fingers trembling from the need for a cigarette. He'd smoked since he was fifteen, a habit Dad had tried numerous times to break him of, but had cracked the habit with Jess's help a year before she'd died. Normally he didn't think about smoking anymore but sometimes, when situations got too stressful, he found himself craving one.

It didn't help matters that Meg was waiting for him outside smoking a cigarette of her own. "Want one?" she offered from where she leaned against the wall, tipping the half full pack towards him.

"I quit," he told her and she snorted.

"That's too bad." They stood in silence as the sun rose higher in the sky, Meg puffing out smoke from time to time. "Did you want something?" she asked finally and Sam narrowed his eyes as he stared at her profile.

"What are you?" he asked at last and the corner of Meg's mouth lifted up in a smirk.

"Oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," she purred with something that was almost affection. "You have much bigger things to worry about right now." Then she dropped her still smoldering cigarette on the cracked concrete before heading into her room. She left Sam behind wishing that he'd actually taken the offered dose of nicotine. Maybe it would have calmed his nerves.

Meg left with a cheerful wave good-bye the following morning while the Winchester brothers moved on, Dean congratulating Adam on picking up such a hot girl. Sam tried not to scream his frustration in the backseat. Adam had flat out admitted that he'd met Meg when he'd gone off on his trip to California, for which Dean had been furious with everyone for days afterwards, but because Meg was hot all was forgiven. And neither one knew that Meg was anything but human. 

The next four hunts went as well as they possibly could. They took down a wendigo in Montana who gashed Adam's side. Then there was the poltergeist in Louisiana who had attempted to butcher Adam. Dean made some snide comment then about Adam being the next best thing for monsters. Adam had snapped back that he at least wasn't daddy's perfect little robot and Sam had been forced to break up a fistfight between his brothers. The result had left him with a black eye and a bruised jaw. The following hunt had been a Red Cap, Sam had hunted one in college before he'd met Jess but Dean and Adam had thought they were simply myth and their last one had been another spirit. Now the four of them were sitting in a little diner, Adam and Dean arguing about who could dig up a grave the fastest while Sam searched the newspaper for news.

There were always plenty of strange deaths in newspapers if you got the big enough ones, or sometimes even the small town ones. The trick was to sift through what was their kind of thing and what was simply coincidental. What had attracted his attention this morning was a series of attacks. Each victim was claiming that the shadows came to life an attacked them. The police claimed they were simply traumatized by the events that had happened but Sam knew better. This was their kind of mess. "Take a look at this," he said, carefully sliding dishes aside so that he could show his brothers his findings.

"Attacked by shadows?" Dean said with a grin. "Awesome! Let's go!"

"We have to pay first," Sam commented mildly but Dean and Adam were already out the door and heading for the Impala, leaving Sam with the check. He paid, ignoring the sympathetic smile the young waitress gave him, and hurried out to his customary spot in the backseat of the Impala.

The drive to Chicago took four hours. Four hours of heavy metal music while Adam and Dean bickered intermittently. Sam shouldn't have fallen asleep but somehow he managed it. _He was standing in the bedroom watching in silent shock as Mommy rose up the wall towards the ceiling. Her mouth was open and moving as if she were trying to say something to him but nothing was coming out. She was suddenly hanging on the ceiling above Adam's crib and her whole body froze. Then Sam could only watch in horror as his mother burst into flames._

Sam jolted awake, gasping, as Adam knocked on his window. "We're here," Adam said cheerfully when Sam cautiously opened the door. He nodded and stepped out of the Impala into the streets of Chicago. "We aren't far from the address of the last attack," Adam continued. "Dean wants us to hit up the local bar to see if we can discover anything."

"Fine," Sam said blearily, shaking the cobwebs of terror from his mind. By the time he and Adam entered the bar, Dean was already chatting up the very pretty dark haired bartender.

"Typical," Adam muttered scornfully, scanning the crowd and then brightening slightly. "Hey look! There's Meg!"

"Hi Adam," Meg said cheerfully as she approached them. "Nice to see you again." Sam frowned suspiciously at her and she beamed up at him. "You too Sam. And where's Dean, oh I see. Drinking already." Sam couldn't help the grimace that formed on his face at that. True to Meg's word, Dean was already throwing back some kind of cheap beer that was guaranteed to have him drunk as soon as possible. That meant Dean was going to be worthless for the hunt that would follow. For a moment Sam wanted to fold up into a little ball of despair but he resisted the urge. He had work to do.

"Are you here for work?" Adam asked Meg, practically bouncing with the delight in seeing the young woman again. It was at times like these that Sam could see the little boy his younger brother had once been. It made his heart hurt.

"No," Meg said, sounding puzzled, but when her eyes fell on Sam she smirked. "Why? Is there something going on here?"

"Maybe," Adam said and Meg grinned at him, wrapping a hand around Adam's bicep.

"Come on, let's go get a table and you can tell me all about it," she cooed. Adam waved cheerfully at Sam as Meg pulled him away. Sam watched them go with a feeling of dread in his stomach. Things were rapidly spiraling out of control and his fingers were trembling as he longed for a cigarette.

"Need a smoke?" The sudden voice startled him and he flinched, turning to see a man about his age with blonde hair and a cold smirk identical to Meg's. Sam clenched his fists for a moment before taking a deep breath and relaxing them. He didn't want to get into some kind of mess without someone to watch his back.

"No, thanks," he said with forced politeness, wanting to leave but not daring to leave his brothers alone. Not after the note Adam had brought back with him after the events with the scarecrow. _The note_. Something dawned on Sam then and he spun on his heel, leaving the bar in a rush. Adam had met Meg on that excursion and the way Meg looked at Sam, as if she knew everything, it was all beginning to make sense. Meg had given Adam that note. Meg was a demon. That was the last thought that drifted through his mind before something smacked him over the back of the head and he toppled to the ground. Behind his still body, Azazel's son stared irritably at the six foot four hunter lying on the ground. Obviously he hadn't thought this part through very well.


	10. Chapter Nine

Finally finding John Winchester was not exactly the happy occasion some part of Sam had hoped it might be. First off all, they were both tied up, and secondly John Winchester was not exactly John Winchester. Sam couldn't explain how he knew that his father was not in the driver's seat but he could feel it in his bones. His father hadn't moved since Sam had come around and not in the since that he was unconscious. Rather it was in a way that made it obvious, to the middle Winchester at least, that he was simply biding his time. Sam squirmed uncomfortably where he'd been tied up as footsteps approached, hoping it wasn't Meg or her demon friend who'd approached him in the bar. Instead Dean and Adam burst in looking a little worse for wear. Maybe the moving shadows had got to them too.

"Dad?" he heard Dean whisper in relief and shock. Sam barely felt betrayed anymore when Adam and Dean ignored him in favor of fear their father who was not really their father. He was used to it by now. 

As soon as it was obvious that Dean had the whole John Winchester situation under control Adam moved to untie Sam. "We found the moving shadows," Adam murmured as Dean shook their father awake. "Or rather, they found us. I think…" He trailed off and swallowed hard, looking guilty. "I think Meg's the one controlling them."

"I'm sorry Adam," Sam said softly and Adam smiled weakly at him.

"Thanks Sam." Sam stood as the ropes slithered off his sore body and squeezed Adam's shoulder. His head throbbed along with his heartbeat but they had more pressing matters to deal with.

"What are you three doing here?" John barked, going straight to commander the moment he woke up.

"We picked up a case," Adam shot back, instantly defensive. "Since we couldn't seem to be able to talk to you since that stupid phone call we thought we'd check it out. Running into you was just-"

"A coincidence," Sam spoke up, overriding Adam and then flinching slightly at the dark look his father gave him. Sure John had never hit him, at least not when he wasn't completely plastered, so Sam doubted anything would happen now. Then again, that wasn't his father. Not at the moment. Who knew what it would do if one of them pushed too hard.

"We need to get out of here," 'John' said, sounding annoyed and a little bit worried. Sam had to admit that whatever was pretending to be John was convincing. It knew how to behave exactly like their father. Maybe a shapeshifter? But why would a shapeshifter work with demons? "It isn't safe for you to be around me right now."

"Yes sir," Dean replied, back ramrod straight.

"More people will die if we just leave," Adam protested furiously. "Oh, I forgot. You don't care about anything but your fucking crusade." John opened his mouth to yell and the room suddenly went dark. 

The shadows were flowing in like a tsunami and Sam recognized Meg's voice as she purred, "Hello there Winchesters." Sam heard Adam scream and then screamed himself as something sharp sliced across his back.

"Dad," he heard Dean yell and then his older brother was crying out in pain too as whatever the creatures were attacking them. Sam had looked into possibilities a few years ago when he'd ran into something similar on his first hunt alone that had turned out to be a kid's prank but it was difficult to think over the options when another of the shadows slashed him across the cheek. Dean had gone silent now and Adam's whimpers were petering off as if he had drifted off into unconsciousness. Sam himself was feeling dizzy with lack of oxygen as the shadows swarmed around him, almost smothering him.

" _Enough!_ " The sudden roar in his father's voice startled Sam but he was even more worried when the shadows withdrew.

"Father?" Meg asked as the creatures swirled around her in confusion. Sam turned to look at his father and was horrified to see bile yellow eyes. A demon, no _the_ demon, was possessing his father and his brothers were passed out on the floor unable to help him.

"Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus," Sam started only to suddenly choke as an iron band wrapped around his throat. He gagged and the demon smirked at him.

"Hello there Sammy. So nice to see you again." Sam choked again, hands scrabbling desperately at his throat as the demon turned to Meg. "Take them sweetheart and get them tied up. I'll deal with them in a minute." Black spots danced across Sam's vision and he thought for a moment he was going to die before the hold on his throat let up. He choked and gasped until he felt his lungs inflate fully. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" the demon asked, crouching in front of Sam. "Since the death of the lovely Jessica in fact." Sam wanted to snarl at the demon not to talk about Jess but he didn't have the energy to deal with anything but the fear washing over him.

"What are you doing here?" Sam croaked out, his voice raspy from being almost suffocated.

"Time's ticking down on my plan," the demon told him with a smirk. "So I'm simply checking on my investment."

"Adam," Sam breathed with sudden horrified realization and the demon nodded. 

"Daddy dearest, however, is going to have to go," the demon continued with a smirk. "He's caused too many problems already to keep around."

"Don't you dare," Sam croaked out, thinking about the look that would be plastered on Dean's face if he found out John was dead but the demon just tilted his head back and laughed.

"Oh Sammy," he purred. "We both know you wouldn't care a bit if old Johnny here got himself left bleeding out in a ditch. And between you and me, John Winchester isn't exactly your daddy." Sam opened his mouth to ask what kind of game the demon was playing but the iron band was back around his throat. "Sorry Sam," the demon said as Sam struggled to breathe. "It's nothing personal. I just can't have you spilling my plan to everyone else." Then, as if the yellow eyed demon had just thought of something. "Actually, I can't risk you remembering anything about this conversation. It might cause problems later on."

"Wait," Sam forced out, trying to squirm away despite the waves of fire it sent down his back. "Don't do this. Please don't do this."

"Sorry Sammy but you should know better than to beg a demon for mercy." The demon leaned forward and pressed his palm against Sam's forehead. He screamed as agonizing pain washed through him and the felt his body tumble back to the floor.

He woke up some time later feeling dazed and confused. Adam and Dean were arguing somewhere nearby, Dad's voice rumbling up to cut them both off. When had they found Dad? How had he gotten here? He tried to sit up, urgency rushing through him, only to whimper as agony bolted down his back. "Sam? Are you awake?" Adam scrambled into the doorway, eyes wide and face streaked with the furious tears that always came when he argued with Dad.

"Yeah," he croaked out and then wondered why his throat felt as if he'd swallowed sandpaper. "Adam, when did we catch up with Dad?"

"We found him tied up in the same room we found you in," Adam said, his face wrinkled with concern. "Remember?"

"Yeah," Sam said in a dazed tone. "Sure."

"Are you okay Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam said again, forcing himself to be a little more convincing. "Hey Adam, can you help me up? I want to talk to Dad for a minute."

"Sure," Adam replied with a relieved smile, scrambling over to help Sam up. His little brother probably thought that Sam wanted to talk to Dad about Jess but Sam had another motive. Something was seriously wrong here and although he didn't know what it was, Sam was sure it had something to do with their father. Adam guided Sam into the next room of whatever cabin they had holed up in where Dad and Dean leaned over a table comparing journal notes. Sam felt bitterness like an ache in his chest, knowing that most of the writing in Dean's journal was Sam's own meticulous notes copied in Dean's messy scrawl. Sam would never get the praise for that. He wouldn't get praise for anything actually. He didn't belong here with them. He was a freak.

Dad turned and glanced at Sam his expression impassive. He was every inch the drill sergeant Sam remembered running away a few years ago and for a moment that made Sam falter. "You're finally awake then?" John's voice was cold, almost disinterested, but that wasn't unusual coming from the Winchester patriarch.

"Yes sir," Sam said softly, repeating "Don't rock the boat" over and over again in his head. He couldn't ruin this for his brothers, not when they'd just finally gotten him back.

"Good," John said gruffly but just before he turned back to Dean's journal, Sam would have sworn that his eyes were yellow. Something was very, very wrong.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am now far enough ahead in this story (and the next one) to start updating twice a week again! Updates will now be on Fridays and Mondays. Enjoy!

The yellow eyed demon turned back to smirk at Sam when Dean was fully focused on the journals again. "Shit," Adam hissed at Sam's side and Sam slipped his arm protectively around his little brother.

"It'll be okay Adam," he murmured in his baby brother's ear even though he had no idea how they'd get out of this one. Dean obviously had no idea that their father was possessed. If he had known, he wouldn't be standing quite so close without a weapon. Their older brother was far from stupid, though admittedly he was less than intelligent when he'd been drinking, and knew better than to get that close to the enemy.

"Of course Adam," John Winchester said smoothly and by the way Dean reeled back Sam knew his older brother had just realized that it wasn't really his father standing next to him. "Everything is going to be just fine." Then John turned to smile at them with yellow eyes. With a flick of his fingers, both Sam and Dean were pinned to walls leaving Adam standing on shaking legs in front of the demon wearing his father. "So nice to see you again boy," the demon continued. "Especially since you are no longer a squalling infant." Adam shuddered all over and backed up a step. Pinned to the wall next to the door, just out of arm's reach of his baby brother, Sam strained against the demon's hold.

"You," Adam gasped out, eyes wide and frightened. "You're the demon. The one that killed Mom and Jessica."

"My name is Azazel," the demon drawled lazily. "And yes, I am." Adam twitched like he would have enjoyed putting a knife in the bastard but no weapon they knew of would kill a demon. "Don't worry Adam. I'm just here to see how you're coming." Sam opened his mouth to start an exorcism only to have the demon seal his throat. He let out a strangled gasp, the world fading before his eyes. At the same time Dean let out a pained scream but Sam couldn't even turn his head to see his older brother.

" _Stop it!_ " Adam screamed and suddenly Sam was slumping to the floor. Adam's eyes were wide with fright and Dean was staring at their baby brother with something akin to horror and disgust. Then Azazel began to laugh. The demon looked pleased and Adam was shaking all over like his whole world had been rocked by a violent earthquake.

"Very good," the demon crooned. "So the blood is starting to wake up. It's only a matter of time before everything else wakes up."

"W-what are you talking about?" Adam stammered, watery eyes darting between Dean's ever darkening expression and Azazel's smug one. The demon just shook his head and smiled. Then he vanished into thin air, leaving only the scent of sulfur behind. "What does he mean?" Adam asked, frantically glancing back and forth between his brothers. "What's happening?"

"What's happening?" Dean asked with a bark of laughter. "Hell if I know."

"Dean," Sam said steadily, his voice a raspy croak. "Shut up." To his surprise, his older brother actually listened. Sam stood then and looked Adam square in the eyes. His brother was panting out short, sharp breaths and showing far too much white on his eyes. Adam was on the verge of a panic attack. "It's going to be okay Adam. We'll find out some way to kill the demon and whatever plans he has for you will be trashed."

"Promise?" Adam asked and Sam was suddenly very aware that his baby brother was only nineteen years old.

"I promise," Sam replied even though he had no idea how he was going to be a man of his word this time. Suddenly he had his arms full of his nineteen year old brother. He looked at Dean over Adam's head and his older brother was glaring at him. Normally Sam would have looked away from his older brother, deferred to Dean's judgment in order to avoid rocking the boat but this time it was Adam on the line. Sam didn't look away. "We're going to Colorado," he told his brother, steel in his tone. He was a little surprised when Dean didn't argue.

Adam elected to ride in the back of the Impala with Sam, cuddling up next to his older brother. Sam ran a hand through his baby brother's blonde hair and silently prayed that Daniel Elkins still liked him. Sam had stayed with Elkins for a while when he was twelve. Adam had been nine at the time and sick with pneumonia so John had left he and Adam behind with Daniel Elkins. Sam had trained with Elkins, and learned a remarkable amount about vampires in the process, while Adam healed and John and Dean hunted a couple of werewolves. It was over this period of time that Daniel Elkins had revealed the Colt to Sam. The twelve year old him hadn't realized the true significance of the weapon but years later he had discovered the legend. The Colt was said to be designed specifically to destroy anything, including Azazel.

They arrived at Manning long after dark, stopping at the local bar to eat. Adam was restless and unhappy, only picking at his food. In contrast Dean gulped down everything and he was lured into the promise of alcohol. Sam found himself between simmering irritations and increasing worry. His foot tapped anxiously under the table under they could finally leave. "Maybe I should drive," Sam suggested when they left the bar. Dean had been drowning cheap beer like it was water and even with his amazing alcohol tolerance Sam worried that his inebriated driving was going to put them all at risk.

"Not a chance geek boy," Dean growled, shoving Sam aside when he tried to block the path to the driver's seat. "I'm the only one driving my baby." Sam sighed heavily but slid into the backseat. To his surprise, Adam joined him, snuggling up next to him like when he was a much younger boy. Sam wrapped an arm around his brother and settled into the seat, sending up a prayer that they didn't crash before reaching Daniel Elkins. As Winchester luck would have it, things did not go as smoothly as Sam would have hoped.

Dean didn't crash the Impala on the way to Elkins' rather remote cabin. That would have been too simple a disaster. They arrived safely at their destination and Sam led the way up the walk to the front door. Before he could knock the door creaked open on its own. Behind him, Sam could practically feel his brothers tense. Cautiously they entered Elkins' home. Sam knew the layout from his own memories and dreams, knew how well protected the cabin actually was, but the prickling sense of danger refused to leave. They searched the house from top to bottom and while they found no signs of danger they also did not find Daniel Elkins.

"So what now Sammy?" Dean asked, his tone nothing short of mocking. "Maybe we should go to the moon and see if the aliens there know how to kill demons."

"Oh lay off Dean," Adam snarled at their older brother. "At least Sam has some sort of a plan. I don't see you coming up with anything better."

"It isn't our job to come up with the plans," Dean growled. "That's Dad's job. We're supposed to follow orders."

"In case you'd forgotten," Adam shot back. "Dad's currently possessed by a demon." Sam headed towards the back porch as Dean and Adam continued to bicker, feeling tired all the way down to his bones. He should probably be breaking them up before they came to blows but he felt as if the world would crush him if he turned back. 

"Okay," he murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair. "So Daniel's gone. That doesn't mean the Colt is."

"Oh aren't you a clever boy?" a voice cooed and Sam found himself face to face with a dark haired woman with shark like teeth. Sam froze, staring her straight in the eyes as if he could stare her down. She grinned at him, all brightness and sharp edges, and tapped perfectly manicured nails on the porch railing. Then her eyes flashed red. "Listen, you and I both want something so why don't we cut a deal?"

"I don't make deals with demons," Sam replied automatically, backing away a step.

"Oh really?" the possessed vampire asked, cocking her head in something akin to confusion. "That's not the rumors coming from Azazel's camp say." Sam swallowed hard at that and she grinned like the cat that caught the canary. "Come on," she prodded gently. "I'll even make it painless. I can't touch your soul because Azazel will noticed when he inevitably pops up again but we can bargain for other things."

"What do you want?" Sam asked warily.

"I don't want anything," she purred. "My boss, on the other hand, wants Azazel dead. So I'll hand over the Colt to you in exchange for a promise. The next time you have the chance, no matter the circumstances, you put a bullet in him. Do we have a deal?" Sam hesitated a moment, listening to his brother's argue from inside the cabin. He could hear the fear in Adam's tone, the uncertainty put there by Azazel. He had practically raised his brother, given his childhood to his baby brother. He would do this one more thing for him.

"Deal," he said coolly and the demon smiled, eyes sparkling with triumph.

"Good choice sweetie," she told him. "Now all that's left is to seal the deal." Sam stared at her, uncomprehending, and she grinned. "Oh poor little lamb," she cooed before leaping over the railing of the porch and pulling his head down so she could kiss him. Her mouth tasted of sulfur and old blood and her hand was hard as steel where it held his head still. When they pulled apart the Colt was in her free hand. "Here you go Sammy," she told him cheerfully. "All for you. Just remember, keep your part of the deal." Then she vanished into the shadows, leaving Sam behind with the weapon and a sour taste in his mouth.


	12. Chapter Eleven

_The first sign of danger Sam received from where he was still standing, stunned and sickened, on Daniel Elkins' back porch, was the sudden silence from his arguing siblings. The Colt heavy in his hand, he turned and cautiously re-entered the cabin. The unmistakable form of John Winchester stood in the doorway, eyes blazing yellow. Dean and Adam were both standing frozen in horror. Sam felt his stomach sink into his shoes. The gun felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, like it was pulling him down towards Hell._

Sam woke up gasping, heart pounding loud in his chest. After he'd shook himself free of the shock that had held him captive, he had returned to his brother and talked them down from a full on battle complete with knives. They'd locked up Elkins' home and checked the warding before settling in for the night, all too exhausted to try to find somewhere else to stay. That was when the nightmares had started. This was the third time he had woken up on the verge of screaming; the third time he'd faced the impossible task of killing both Azazel and his father.

He was in the guest bedroom he had inhabited when he'd stayed with Elkins when Adam was sick and although he'd fallen asleep easily, sucked in by the familiar comfort of the bed, he hadn't stayed that way. The red flashing numbers on the digital clock informed him that was just after four in the morning. He groaned but knew he wouldn't be able to convince himself to fall back asleep for a few more hours. The nightmares were just too near the surface for him to calm his mind. 

Sam rolled out of bed and dug through his duffel until he retrieved the cheap flip phone that had gotten him through college. Speed dial number one rang twice before a ridiculously alert voice answered, "This is Selene Katsaros."

"Morning Selene," Sam said and heard her soft gasp.

There was a long moment of silence and then… " _Samuel Matthew Winchester where have you been?_ " Selene practically bellowed over the phone. For such a tiny woman she really could make her voice carry, and sound terrifying doing it. "I get back from vacation only to find the shop has been locked up for four days, Jessica Moore is dead and buried, and you are nowhere to be found so you had better have some answers for me or so help me Zeus I will track you down and kick you into next week." She sucked in a deep breath then and waited. Sam could almost see her, one hand planted on her hip and one tiny foot tapping impatiently on the ground in a dark blue ballet flat.

"The demon, the one that killed my mother," Sam told her, voice wavering. "He killed Jess. I'm back on the road with my brothers."

"Oh Sam, sweetie," Selene said, her voice suddenly soft and sweet. "I know you've heard it a thousand times already but I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," he said, voice wavering, and her heard Selene sigh gently.

"What can I do for you sweetheart?"

"I just need to talk to someone who isn't more concerned with arguing," he told her and she giggled lightly.

"I'm listening." Sam heard the clink of a coffee cup, the jangle of keys, and realized she was setting up shop for the weekend. All those memories of working with her, sometimes helping her open, and even sparring with her after hours, suddenly seemed so distant.

"I made a deal," he told her. "Well a couple deals actually. With demons."

"Okay," Selene replied, sounding remarkably calm. "Walk me through them."

"The first one is with Azazel," Sam told her. "The demon that killed Mom and Jess. He promised that if I kept Adam and Dean together he would make sure I had a normal life. A safe one."

"Mm-hmm," Selene said, obviously recognizing that there was more to the story.

"Then, just last night, I made another deal. You see, there's this gun called the Colt-"

"Made by Samuel Colt," Selene interrupted. "The Colt rumored to be able to kill anything. I know of it."

"A hunter named Daniel Elkins had it. When we got to his cabin, it was missing and so was Elkins. Dean and Adam started arguing and I couldn't take it anymore so I went out back. That was when I ran into this demon with red eyes."

"A crossroad demon," Selene filled in for him.

"She offered me a deal. She said her boss wanted Azazel dead so she'd give me in the Colt in exchange for a promise that I would put a bullet in Azazel the first chance I got. Then she said we had to seal it and she kissed me. I can still taste the sulfur." He shuddered a little at that.

"Oh sweetheart," Selene said. "The first deal isn't official. It was never sealed. Azazel is simply playing with you."

"I was afraid of that," Sam said, voice trembling again.

"Sam?" he heard Adam call blearily from down the hall and he sighed ruefully.

"I have to go Selene."

"Fine," she told him, voice filled with warmth. "But keep in touch or I will track you down."

"I expect nothing less of you," Sam told her with a weak laugh before hanging up the phone and heading for the hall. "What is it Adam?"

"I, I had a dream," Adam stammered, eyes wide and worried. "About Dad." Sam's little brother was shaking all over. There was a thin trickle of blood dripping from his nose and his eyes were far too wide.

"Calm down," Sam soothed gently, guiding his brother down to sit on the floor. "Tell me what you dreamed."

"I dreamed that I was Dad and I was trapped inside my own mind," Adam replied. "And I was screaming and screaming but no one but the demon could hear me. And all he would do was laugh." Adam shuddered all over as if he had been doused in ice water.

"It'll be okay," Sam tried to reassure his baby brother even though he had no idea what was going on. "I promise."


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I, ah (insert awkward laugh here), accidentally forgot to post this chapter yesterday. Also, after this story is over this series may go on hold because I'm not exactly sure I'm happy with it or Revolutions right now.

They left Elkins' home behind after breakfast, Dean grumbling the whole time about worthless trips to the middle of nowhere. Adam settled back in his customary spot in the passenger seat with a little prodding from Sam who was pondering what his little brother had told him. Adam having nightmares was nothing new. The hunting lifestyle tending to give a person plenty of nightmare fuel and even Dean, who tried to convince the world that he was unable to be shaken, had woken up screaming plenty of times. Still, something told him that this particular dream of Adam's was different. That thought scared him. 

Azazel obviously wanted something from Adam. Sam wasn't sure what it was but he doubted it was anything good. He also doubted that Adam's sudden strange dream was coincidental. No, the demon was doubtless messing with Adam's mind, trying to see what made Sam's little brother vulnerable. He'd be damned if he let a demon get the baby brother that raised him. No. After that dream, Sam would cheerfully shoot Azazel in the head. 

Dean was driving aimlessly, not really heading for anywhere in particular. Adam began to wince by lunch time, a sure sign that a headache was coming on, possibly one of those rare migraines his baby brother had experienced as a child. "Let's pull over Dean," Sam said and, despite his irritated growl, Dean stopped at the next cheap motel they came across. Sam got Adam settled with headache medicine in a dim room while Dean headed for the nearest bar to drink himself silly.

Once Adam drifted off to sleep, muscles relaxing as the headache vanished, Sam settled in with the laptop, planning on seeing what the internet had to say about Azazel. He got as far as opening an internet browser when someone practically knocked down the door. Adam moaned irritably and Sam stood, drawing a knife out of his bag and heading for the door. He was only a foot away when the door swung open to reveal their father with his lock picking tools in hand. "Christo," Sam hissed immediately only to have John stare at him blankly, as if maybe he thought his middle child had gone crazy.

"Dad?" Adam asked from the bed, eyes wide, but Sam was already backing up to grab the flask of holy water he'd made up earlier. It was easy to twist the cap off and douse their father in holy water. John sputtered and shook his head but there was no burning sounds or, even worse, yellow eyes.

"That's enough Sam," John barked and Sam nodded, replacing the cap on the flask.

"Yes sir," he said softly and heard Adam snort from behind him.

"Yeah, we're sorry for being cautious since last time we saw you, you were possessed," the youngest Winchester drawled with a roll of his eyes. "No big deal."

"Adam's right," Sam said, keeping his voice level. "You would have been disappointed in us if we hadn't checked." John gave a reluctant nod and shut the door behind him.

"Where's Dean?" Adam scowled and Sam fought down the disappointment at his father's words. Of course John's first question would be about Dean; the good son.

"He's at the local bar," Sam replied as diplomatically as he could.

"Drinking himself stupid," Adam muttered and Sam shook his head slightly at his little brother. Dad didn't seem to hear his youngest, settling down in the chair Sam had abandoned when he'd broken in.

"Sam, call him and tell him to come back," Dad ordered and Sam nodded, already dialing the correct number. Dean picked up on the fourth ring, sounding annoyed as some girl giggled brightly in the background, but he turned serious almost instant when Sam told him that Dad wanted him back. The Impala roared into the motel parking lot five minutes later, which meant Dean had broken the speed limit, and Dean burst into the room like he was trying to make a grand entrance in some kind of musical.

" _Dad._ " Dean breathed the word like someone might say the name of God when they saw His face. It no longer surprised Sam, to see that worship on his older brother's face. John Winchester was everything to Dean, his holy grail, and Sam and Adam were just insignificant pawns in a larger game.

"Dean," John replied levelly and Sam watched as his older brother straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. He was military perfect and in that moment Sam truly hated his brother. "Now that you are all here," John continued. "We can get started." Something in his tone sent a shiver of warning down Sam's spine. He only had time to glance at Adam and see his brother's suddenly frightened expression before he found himself pinned against a wall. 

"Oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Azazel cooed at Sam. "Poor, foolish boy. As if things such as holy water could hurt me." Then the demon turned and smirked at Dean. "And you, such a good little soldier to come running like a trained lap dog when your father calls. And then there's Adam." Adam strained from where he was pinned next to Sam, expression furious and frightened. "My wonderful little Boy King. Or at least you will be once Daddy dearest is out of the way."

Sam strained against the demon's hold, knowing that if he could just reach the Colt he could end this entire vendetta. Even if it killed his father. After all, he had made a promise to a demon. At that thought a hysterical laugh burst free of him, drawing the demon's attention back to him. "What do you think is so funny, you worthless piece of flesh and bone?" the demon snarled at him and Sam yelled as what felt like a fist began crushing his chest. He writhed against the pain and Adam screamed in terror.

" _Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!_ " Adam's voice echoed through the room and Azazel's eyes widened as he was tossed into the closed door. The three brothers crashed to the floor, Sam coughing up a small amount of blood as his chest throbbed and ached. He forced himself to move, crawling across the floor to his bag and tugging out the Colt. The gun felt heavy in his hand, heavier than any gun he'd ever lifted in his life. He stood slowly and pulled back the hammer, aiming the way his father had impatiently taught him.

"Oh darling child, are you going to shoot me?" Azazel asked with a mocking laugh. "As if that piece of modern weaponry would harm me."

"Oh I think this one will," Sam replied, forcing his voice to remain steady as his brothers made their way over to stand next to him. "Samuel Colt made it special." Azazel's eyes widened for the second time that night and then suddenly Sam was staring at his father. He couldn't explain the changes that came across John Winchester's face, couldn't tell anyone why he knew it was suddenly his father pushing the demon down instead of the other way around, but he knew it all the same.

"Do it Sam," John ordered, his voice a harsh bark. "Finish it."

"Sam." Dean's voice was a low warning and Sam was temporarily shocked when he glanced over and saw his older brother shaking his head. For the first time in Sam's memory, Dean was advocating disobedience. Adam, when Sam glanced at his baby brother, had wide and watering eyes.

"Sorry Dad," Sam said levelly, changing his aim just slightly. "But I can't do that." Then he fired. He hit where he aimed. Sam hadn't missed a non-moving target since he turned twelve. The bullet struck John Winchester just below the knee and they all watched as their father's head tilted back and a huge demon cloud of black smoke billowed free from his mouth. It was over for now but Sam was sure the trouble was only just beginning.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So once again I forgot a Friday update! Sorry everyone! On the plus side, I have decided to keep going with this series and the prologue on the next story will be posted on Monday.

The semi struck the Impala on the side, sending it spinning as if Dean had driven too quickly across a patch of black ice. After Sam had shot their father in the leg with the Colt, temporarily causing Azazel to flee, they'd loaded themselves into the Impala. Dean had settled in the driver's seat with an injured and furious John Winchester riding shot gun. Sam had settled painfully in the back seat with Adam curled up and shaking next to him. Dean had driven while John berated all of them and winced every time they went over a bump. That was before the semi.

It was a dark blue monstrosity towing some kind of trailer, Sam didn't know whether it was full or empty but judging by how quickly the back end spun around it was probably empty, and it struck them hard and fast. The Impala spun crazily across the road and into the roadside ditch. Sam's head slammed hard against the window and Adam yelped in pain as his seatbelt jerked him back hard. There was a crunch of metal and glass and Sam's head slammed hard against the seat in front of him. The world splintered away into blackness.

_"When's he gonna do somefing?" Sam asked as he clutched the top of the playpen and leaned over to stare at his new baby brother. He'd been very excited when Mommy had told he and his big brother that they were going to have a new sibling. He'd hoped his new baby brother would be more interested in playing with him then Dean since his older brother had gone to school and moved on to bigger, better things._

_"Not for a while yet sweetie," Mom said with a fond smile, kissing him on the forehead. "Now come on, time for bed." She scooped him up, tickling his sides until he giggled and squirmed, and then carried him into his bedroom. It didn't take long before he was tucked into bed and closing his eyes, drifting off to sleep for the last time in his own bed._

Sam's eyes flickered open and he coughed and choked, head feeling like it was a cloud and the rest of his body as if it were a block of cement. He squirmed against the seatbelt constraining him, aware of the headlights from the semi illuminating the damaged interior of the Impala. "Adam?" he croaked, turning his head and wincing as pain shot down his spine. "Adam?" His little brother moaned, shifting slightly, and Sam could tell that the boy he'd raised had at least a couple broken ribs. He would be okay.

"Dean?" he called next but didn't get any answer. "Dean? Dad?" Neither one of them so much as moved. "Dad? Dean?" Panic began to creep up from his stomach, choking him, and it didn't help that he could hear footsteps approaching him. His fingers scrabbled for his backpack where he had stashed the Colt, somehow knowing he would need it.

"Ah, ah, ah," a voice cooed. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Sam turned his head and found himself face to face with the trucker who had been driving the semi. His eyes were black as pitch. Sam growled, straining against the seatbelt. Both he and the demon flinched, startled, when it snapped. "Oh my," the demon said, his face twisting into a grin. "Did the poor little bird run out of juice and end up trapped on this mudball?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said, reaching cautiously for the Colt. His fingers wrapped around it and he withdrew it while the demon laughed.

"Of course you don't. Fallen rather far, haven't you?" Sam's brow furrowed in confusion but he didn't allow himself to be distracted as he pulled the hammer back.

"Back off," he demanded, aiming the Colt at the demon.

"Oh you wouldn't want to do that," the demon chided. "If you kill me you'll never see your precious Jessica again."

"Jess is already dead," Sam snarled. "Just like you'll be in a minute."

"Oh your darling Jess is dead already," the demon mocked. "But I'm not talking about her sweet body. No, I'm talking about her soul." Sam froze then and the demon cackled, tilting back the trucker's head and evacuating before Sam could say anything more.

"What's going on?" the man babbled, shaking all over. "Oh my god, are you hurt?"

"Call 911," Sam croaked out. He managed to keep his exhausted eyes open until he heard the approaching sirens of the emergency crew. Then he let the darkness carry him away.


End file.
